


To Make Amends

by iamfinallyhere



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Modern AU, Pining, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Slow build but also instant infatuation?, history nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfinallyhere/pseuds/iamfinallyhere
Summary: “It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Andre,” the American humbly stuck his hand out and shook John’s in a firm grip. “I read your dissertation on American and British espionage tactics during the American Revolution. It was fascinating and I really enjoyed seeing the contemporary British perspective on it.”“Thank you, Mr. Tallmadge,” John responded graciously. He cocked his head to one side with an amused grin. “Tallmadge? As in the Setauket Tallmadges?”——-When a young researcher named Ben Tallmadge comes to London for a project regarding American and British written correspondence during the American Revolutionary War, Professor John Andre begins to recall memories from a time long, long ago.
Relationships: John André & Benjamin Tallmadge, John André/Benjamin Tallmadge
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	To Make Amends

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the names, locations, etc used in this work of transformative fiction. Benjamin Tallmadge and John Andre are historical figures.

Professor John Andre darted from cloister to cloister shaking his shoulders intermittently and flinging raindrops from his trench coat. Inside his trench coat, he held to his chest old reference books from the library; a precious cargo, in his mind. He peeked out from underneath the college’s cloister and darted to the next one across the courtyard. The library was to close in ten minutes and he was clear across campus. The librarian had already scolded him for keeping books out late, he wished to not draw her ire once more. She had taken her duties as the college’s head librarian with a deadly seriousness and it had taken much charm on John’s part to get into her good graces.

He was almost under the next cloister when his shoulder slammed hard into someone else’s moving at equal haste.

The other man cried out and John watched as the man’s leather briefcase flew from his hand and into a murky puddle.

“Pardon me. I’m terribly sorry. I’ll pay to have it cleaned,” John quickly apologized and bent down to pick up the now soaked briefcase. He looked up to hand the case to the man when he was frozen to the spot by a pair of eyes so blue, John could only liken them to sapphires. He inwardly grimaced at his own saccharine thoughts.

“It’s fine. It’s been through worse,” the man murmured, his American accent quickly catching John’s ear. They stood up and John was impressed with the man’s impossibly straight posture; one that mimicked his own. Much like himself, the American had military writ into his countenance. If John had to guess; the man had been an officer. Judging by the the self-assured, level gaze and calm demeanor, this young man had to have been a leader.

_Major Tallmadge. Allow me to say it’s an honor to make your acquaintance._

“If you’ll please excuse me, I have matters to attend to,” the younger man nodded his blond head curtly.

John could only respond with his own nod and watched wordlessly as the man swept past him and into the rain.

The smell of gunpowder, horses and muddied roads inexplicably followed after.

When John laid his head down to sleep, he did not expect the dreams that would follow.

_An impressed smile. Curious blue eyes rising from the drawing on the page to his own._

_“Did you study portraiture in Europe?”_

_The carriage jostled as the horses pulled it to the gallows._

When John woke the next morning, he laid in bed and stared up at his ceiling. His dream had seemed as real as the pillow beneath his head; as clear in his mind as the dinner he had last night. It was a real memory that he couldn’t have possibly made.

In the dream, the American from the cloisters had been sitting across from him in a wooden carriage. His flaxen hair had been longer than his current wavy short hair and pulled into a neat blue ribbon at the nape of his neck. John had felt an immense respect for the man in the blue coat; a coat that he swiftly recognized as one of a Continental Army officer from the American Revolution era. He himself had been dressed in one of vibrant English red.

John had grown up with the idea that he had been related to _The_ Major John Andre through his mother’s side. His father had long since left and he had adopted his mother’s surname, Andre, for his own. While his mother had been working her two jobs, he had grown up consuming every bit of information about his ancestors. Young John spent hours in the library reading every book and renting out every documentary he could find.

He knew that Andre’s American counterpart, Major Benjamin Tallmadge, had a significant role in his capture. The two men had their own private war within the larger one; a smaller war of espionage and subterfuge. The two officers had utilized every resource, every agent to give their respective sides the upper-hand. It had been a one-on-one battle of wit and intelligence.

John had read Tallmadge’s letters and memoirs, paying special attention to any mention of his ancestor. Tallmadge had held his enemy in high regard with more respect than even some of Andre’s own colleagues did.

But what did the American from the college have to do with these newly confounding dreams? With these memories from a time far long before either of them were even born?

The phone on his bedside table buzzed with a text message notification.

 _Hey. Remember ur meeting the new researcher today for the Amer Revol letters project today. Ur gon to have a right laugh at who it is_ , the text read. 

John rolled out of bed and padded to his bathroom. So deeply entranced in his thoughts, he had almost forgotten the research project he had volunteered for. Boston College had sent one of their History faculty members to pore over old correspondence regarding the American Revolution. It seemed an easy enough paycheck and John was always fascinated with that particular war due to his relation to one of the main figures of it.

As he shaved the days old stubble from his chin, he examined himself in the mirror. Records had stated that Major John Andre had been a handsome man, able to captivate both men and women on both sides of the Atlantic with his charm and wit.

Now was the time to call upon that power because, if he hadn’t read the research dossier incorrectly, he would be working with an American academic for the next month. Some old crone of a man named Marks who was as old as the letters he read, most likely.

John was peacefully reading an excerpt from a text of the War of 1812 in the library’s stacks when he heard his name ring jubilantly through the silence.

Leave it to Draymond to yell in a library. He held affection for the man, but the man also tended to be exceptionally uncouth for a History professor.

“John!”

John turned towards the voice and felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Draymond strode up to him, eager smile on his face with another man in tow.

The American from the cloisters.

Draymond almost appeared breathless in his excitement. “John, this is Ben Tallmadge from Boston College. Dr. Marks had, regrettably, a family medical emergency and was unable to make the journey across the pond, so Mr. Tallmadge will be filling in. I have been assured by Dr. Marks that Mr. Tallmadge is one of his top researchers.” Draymond’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Mr. Tallmadge, this is Professor John Andre of our History department.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Andre,” the American humbly stuck his hand out and shook John’s in a firm grip. “I read your dissertation on American and British espionage tactics during the American Revolution. It was fascinating and I really enjoyed seeing the contemporary British perspective on it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tallmadge,” John responded graciously. He cocked his head to one side with an amused grin. “Tallmadge? As in the Setauket Tallmadges?”

Draymond was practically vibrating beside them, smile wide and beaming.

Ben nodded, “Yes. From my father’s side. And yourself? Could you be related to Major John Andre?”

“Through my mother,” John supplied with a smile. “This is quite the twist of fate, Mr. Tallmadge.”

The younger man returned the smile with a beatific one of his own.

_I’m Major Benjamin Tallmadge, General Washington’s Staff._

_Andre felt a pang in his stomach and sweat broke out across his palms. The most cunning man in the Continental Army was stood beside him. Andre was surprised at the soft youthful voice that came from the man and turned to see the man who foiled his plans time and time again; the man widely considered his equal by both American and British forces._

_Andre was dismayed to find the young man beautiful to a fault. His face was deceptively cherubic, but Andre knew that that angelic face only belied what he had done and what he was capable of._

_Major Tallmadge acknowledged him with a perfunctory nod. His calculating gaze moved up and down the length of Andre’s body and, for the first time in a long while, Andre felt completely transparent. As if Major Tallmadge would see through his ruse if Andre were to make even the slightest move._

_The younger man’s eyes flitted over to Andre every so often as Colonel Jameson explained his erroneous capture. When Major Tallmadge asked for a moment to speak to the Colonel alone, Andre released the breath he had not realized he had been holding._

Draymond had left the two to attend to his own collegiate matters.

“I must once again apologize for your briefcase, Mr. Tallmadge,” John folded his hands behind his back. “Please allow me to make amends for that discourtesy.”

“It really is of no consequence, sir.” When Tallmadge smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkled happily.

It was dreadfully charming, John had surmised.

“Even so,” John stood straight. “As host, I must treat my guest with dignity and care.”

“Who am I to refuse such generosity?” Tallmadge replied easily. John reveled in the soft-spoken, warm American lilt from the younger man and was instantly reminded of an introduction from over two hundred years ago

_I’m Major Benjamin Tallmadge, General Washington’s Staff._

“Bangers and mash, please,” Tallmadge ordered at the nearby pub. The server then bustled off, notepad in hand.

John was mid-sip during the whole exchange and looked at him fondly over the rim of his pint glass. “Not your first time in England, I take it?”

Tallmadge looked at him with a shy smile, “I studied at Cambridge for a semester during grad school.”

John’s eyebrows shot up, “Cambridge?”

“The stuffiest student body I have ever been in.” Tallmadge responded. “Once they found out I did four years in the Army after undergrad, they called me GI Joe relentlessly. It was all very stereotypically English.”

John laughed, “That is my alma mater.”

The younger man blanched, his face coloring. “Please excuse me. I didn’t mean to insult-.”

John shook his head, “No, no, no. You are correct in your assumption.” He tilted his head to the side with a grin. “I do not come from a wealthy family, nor am I descended from nobility or gentry. I also come from a military background. I could not relate to a majority of my peers and on the same token, they could not relate to me and what I had experienced.”

“Major Andre was merchant-class who worked his way up to officer through merit. He’s respected here and even in America,” Tallmadge began. John saw the gears working in the American’s head. “Even with that bloodline, they still...?”

John smiled ruefully. “England is still very set in her old ways, Mr. Tallmadge.”

“Ever consider defecting to across the pond? We could use a man like you over at Boston College,” Tallmadge’s tone was playful, but his dark blue eyes were beckoning John like a siren.

“Would you leave your shores for mine?” John challenged in kind.

Tallmadge paused, eyes searching the older man’s face before he smirked, “Touché, Professor.”

John could not suppress the flicker of want that uncurled in his stomach. He was surprised at the suddenness of it, as if it had always been there and was just awakening from a long sleep. “If it is fine by you, please call me John.”

Tallmadge took a sip of his beer. “Only if you’ll call me Ben.”

“Brilliant. If we are to work together, I am of the opinion that titles may put an unnecessary distance between us.”

Ben laughed heartily, “That’s not very English of you. The bucking of social titles is kind of our thing. You sure you don’t want to come on over?” 

John laughed along, feeling a powerful and sudden camaraderie enveloping them both. _I fear that in due time I would be willing to remake myself to suit wherever you are, Mr. Tallmadge._

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...


End file.
